


Cold Case

by Lilithee



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Journalist Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Swears, Levi is Bad At Feelings (Shingeki no Kyojin), Levi is So Done (Shingeki no Kyojin), Mikasa Ackerman & Levi Are Related, Possessive Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Protective Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28645455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilithee/pseuds/Lilithee
Summary: In the depths of night you can find bubbly energy coming from the undergrounds of the city, places where no one goes without a purpose, but no one leaves without a deal. Everyone knew that, but no one dared to talk, lives were at stake when money and power got involved. The job was easy, you just had to get close enough to write a short story on a case and never step on the undergrounds deadly soils ever again. That was until cold, blue eyes set their gaze upon you.
Relationships: Levi & Reader, Levi/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first rodeo around the SNK fandom. I really wanted to write about Levi, and got pretty big plans for this story! 
> 
> The warnings are up there, and things will get pretty messy but I hope you guys enjoy it, and hopefully, leave some feedback.

Under the shadows and the predominant smell of beer and piss, the echoing sound of the old wooden creeks kept dancing around the rainy alleyway. The sky was in shades of red and dark purple, hinting that a storm was approaching, but the life around the city was still going, ladies of the night hanging around the streets while old and drunk men parked their cars around, trying to get a full night of getting hammered and laid. 

A man under the rain snapped his fingers and grabbed a silky handkerchief from the pockets of his well ironed vest and cleaned the bloody knuckles, scoffing from the sight while the droplets of rain painted the collar of his white social shirt. 

Another man sat on his knees, blood pooling on the dirty floor, mixing with the filthy water and leachate from the garbage bins around them. One of his eyes was closed, puffy and the purple marks were already visible around it; his mouth coughed spit mixed with red and drooled all over his chin, sliding down his hand-marked neck. He watched the figure before him with a plead for mercy, praying to whatever gods were up there, believing everything and nothing at the same time. 

“ _Are you done?”_ Asked the standing man, looking bored at the dramatic act in front of him. He fixed the cravat on his neck and put the handkerchief inside his back pocket, holding it only by the tip of his fingers. 

“Please, _mister,_ please have mercy!” Pleaded the desperate man, his hands on air, cautious by the other’s every move. “ _I swear,_ I have done nothing wrong! I have no knowledge of what you asked me!” 

“ _Tch”_ the other man rolled his eyes and adjusted his cuffs, closing his knuckles again, wondering if he should give the guy another warning punch. “I know you’re lying. One of my men saw you buying a new pair of shoes for your _wife_ -” 

“ _Mister, please!_ It wasn’t me” 

“-and some red lingerie for your _mistress_.” The other kept going, crouching down a little to get to the other’s eye level. “I gotta admit, I’m more interested in black sets, usually pops off way more on women, accentuating what goods they already have-” 

Bruised eyes followed the man's hands, hoping for the worst while a faint sound of police cars echoed down the street, mixing with the soft jazz from the bar next door, along with the clinking of beer glasses and drunken out of tune singing. 

“-also, how would Maria react if she knew about your side piece? She seems like a very sensible woman, I can see how hard working she is... taking care of the kids, waiting for you with a warm meal on the table. But that’s all she does, _right_? She waits; but you never come.” 

“Please, let me go. I swear I won’t tell anyone-” he pleaded again, now crying from the purple eye and snot falling from his nose onto his mouth as he talked “-you want me to drop my mistress? _I will!_ I will be a better husband! I will do everything you want, _just let me go!”_

Staring down, the other man frowned even harder, eyes flickering from the sweaty bald head to the mud stains on the other’s pants. 

“ _Huh?_ You thought I gave a _shit_ about your relationships?” He held his cold gaze now into his eyes, not moving an inch. “I couldn’t care less, was just stating facts. And _let you go?_ You are a complicit now. _Just another stain-”_

He stood in place, adjusting the wrinkles around his hips on his pants and taking the .38caliber from the holster around his thigh, fingers wrapping around the beautifully revested in mother of pearl grip, feeling the cold to his fingertips and pulling the safety, pointing it to the man’s head. 

“-And I’m known for _never leaving any stains_.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry abt this chapter im sleep deprived and most of it was written while i was drunk so forgive my mistakes

You took the pickles out of your sandwich while staring at the blank word document, fingers getting rid of the disgusting piece of vegetable and then tapping rapidly at the space bar of your keyboard, hoping that your mind would show a light bulb and bring you the inspiration you were looking for. From a few tables over, you could hear low chattering and a few small cries from your coworkers around, going through their break, a luxury your mind couldn’t afford from your strict perfectionistic self.

Your eyes darted over to the closed door and frowned a little, leaning back on your chair and letting out a deep, tired sigh. The small iron plaque on top of wood read ‘ _Joshua Walter,_ _chief editor’_ — such a plain name for a huge spot on the news scene around the city and region. You couldn’t stand the guy; ever since you got the internship to work on the Daily Leader, you stayed under his leading team, since no one around would do it, knowing the man was pretty much a dirty slob, always sitting around and playing poker on his computer while others did his work for him.

And you didn’t get paid a penny more.

So you sat there, nibbling on the rubbery bread and wondering if talking to him would make a difference or not. Mr. Walter had reunited the whole crew that morning, letting people know of new changes he was going to make around, since the budget wasn’t as big as the earlier months. Everyone knew what that meant — _cuts._

And the problem was that you were still a temp. And temps were _always_ the first ones to go.

That was the reason the air around got thicker and thicker by the second. No one wanted to get cut right then, it was almost November and your coworkers were mostly middle-aged people, having families of their own and too settled to start fresh again; so all eyes were on you, pretty sure that you were the enemy since you were the youngest, in your 20s and freshly out of college.

_As if I’m supported by my parents,_ you rolled your eyes as you kept eating the sandwich.

That almost made you laugh. Your father didn’t bother to raise you, only sending your mother a small amount every month till you were 7, then he just left completely, your mom, on the other hand, was always around, but never cared a lot. You couldn’t complain though, she gave you food and shelter, so when you turned 18, you left home with the money from all your part-time jobs and got yourself an old apartment downtown that you were _pretty sure_ someone had committed a crime before you moved in, but it was yours to call.

You still remember the day you brought your two half-filled boxes with all your stuff and set yourself in, sleeping in a futon the few months before you could get yourself a good bed, then came your table, the stove — which was a great deal for you since all you ate were instant food at that point — and you spoiled yourself with a couch from craigslist and three bottles of gas station wine from the bonus you got last year.

It felt lonely sometimes, maybe getting a kitten would be better, but you couldn’t afford to.

Chewing up on the last piece of your sandwich, you grabbed a napkin and dabbed around your mouth, downing it with water before standing and reaching for the infamous office, knocking two times before you could even think of what you would say, but spontaneity is key, _right?!_

_“Come in”_ the raspy voice commanded you and you twisted the knob, letting yourself in. “Oh, miss (y/l/n), what’s up?”

_Oh,_ you forgot to mention that Joshua Walter liked to think of himself as a _young folk._

_“_ Sorry to bother, Mr. Walter” you stood in front of the door, hands behind your back as the man put out a cigarette on full ashtray, your nose itching just from the sight.

Joshua Walter looked like the embodiment of a divorce. He had puffy eyes and the triple chin was evident over the beige collar, his tie was loosened up around the neck and those velvet brown pants belonged in the trash. He had this bad habit of speaking too close and the coffee breath was something that always made your eyes water every morning — he admitted to you that he was trying to quit smoking once, so you took the opportunity to always offer him a mint, since it was good for his cause and your sense of smell as well.

His office wasn’t that big. He had a small desk on the corner, a big window covered by dusty blinds right behind and three rolls of green steel cabinets on the other side, flooding with old editions of the newspaper and stuff you were pretty sure didn’t belong there, but didn’t mind.

“I was actually looking to speaking with you” he said before lighting another cigarette — _so that’s working._

“Ah, sure” you gave him a timid smile. “I wanted to ask before-”

“—I’ve got a new story for you!” He leaned back on his creaky chair, pleased with himself.

You licked your lips, knowing it was going to be a hard task.

“Of course, sir, but first—”

“—You are going to love it.” The man started typing quickly, satisfied by something you couldn’t quite point at. “ _Here;_ okay, so last night I talked to my old friend, Jerry, we’ve met back in college and he actually dropped out because he decided writing wasn’t for him. It isn’t for me too, that’s why I became an editor — _agh,_ I _hate_ working.”

He kept on blabbering and your mind was far away, wondering why you haven’t ordered a coffee with your sub, because now your headache was growing, and the lack of caffeine was beginning to make your hands tremble.

“— _Anyways_ , he is a police officer now. _Can you believe?!_ And he told me that last night something big happened. Real big. Can you guess what?”

_Huh..._

_“Murder!”_ He threw his hands up and his face had complete euphoria stamped on, making you quite scared to be around.

The man kept on rambling about stuff you couldn’t care less, but had to pretend to listen because — _you know_ — work hierarchy. Your thoughts went to your grocery list and you let out a faint sigh, too exhausted to go shopping right after your shift, even though you had nothing in your fridge asides from some old beer and expired milk.

_Oh well._

_“_ What do you think?” The man adjusted his glasses on top of his nose and straightened his back on his seat, watching you standing there, waiting for a reply.

_What-_

_“_ Sorry, I’m—” you licked your lips, thoughts running wild trying to think of an excuse for not paying attention. “Hm...”

“This is huge, (y/n)!” He gave you a small smirk. “This could be your breakthrough, your ticket out of this town. And even a signed work contract here, if you’d like.”

Wait.

_Wait._

_What?!_

_“Excuse me,_ what?” You coughed a little, almost choking on your own saliva as your nerves started to run along your legs wildly.

“This investigation.” He smiled again. “I want you to write about it. I already have Jerry agreed to let you in, and the pay will be _very generous.”_

_Now we are talking._

_“So…_ Are you in?”

Well, this _could be_ the new sink you were needing, since yours had only one special way of functioning. And even though Mr. Walter was a slob, he _did_ have contacts, plus, he said this could be your way out of this shitty town. You were not going to take it for granted.

“I mean, I’m sure Anna would _love_ to take this opportunity—”

“I’m in” you snapped, making yourself present. _Wait, fuck. What was the investigation even about?_

_“_ Then I'm sending you the notes on Monday” he said, stretching and going back to typing on his own computer. “Nice talk, (y/n). See ya!”

You were now dumbfounded; you didn’t even have to speak a word for him to grab the sentences right out of your mouth. A signed contract was all you needed. But then again, you had a weird feeling growing in your gut; Mr. Walter did say it was about murder, but a girl gotta do what she needs to do.

Leaving the office, you held a small grin on your lips, walking right to your own desk, avoiding any ugly stares your way as you sat down, feeling like inspiration could come at any second.

* * *

  
For the rest of the day, you just reorganized some boxes that Ken from finances asked to and ate the ice cream Mr. Walter ordered for everyone, probably out of guilt since that morning gathering. It wasn’t very eventful, when you were almost finished, that was until Joe from the sports column came to your desk, his bulky figure catching your attention by making it seem like there was a small eclipse happening inside the office.

“Hey kiddo!” He saluted as you closed all the windows on your screen and turned in your chair to give him your full attention.

“Hi, Joe” you gave him a small smile and the man crossed his arms on top of his blue social shirt that contrasted beautifully with his dark skin. “ _’Sup?”_

“We are going to grab a drink or two, _God knows we need it._ Are you in?”

Your coworkers always invited you to things, well, _Joe and Sarah_ did, the others just didn’t say anything about it. And even though you never really agreed to go, tonight you were feeling somewhat excited, a beer or two wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Sure, why not” you tilted your head to the side a little and crossed your arms.

“That was unexpected” Joe let out as he gave you a faint laugh. “We are leaving soon, so finish up!”

“Yes, sir” you smiled and turned away, just setting up some stuff you had to fix before ending your day.

After all was done, you grabbed your phone and the small journal to take notes if you — _for a miracle —_ got some inspiration later. You threw your stuff inside your bag and threw it across your chest, quickly grabbing your coat on top of your chair and putting it also on. The November breezes always gave you the worst kind of headaches, and you liked feeling cozy inside the shallow fur.

Joe waited for you at the door along with Sarah and another boy that you recognized to be a temp in finances, _Gayle… Gary… what was it again?!_

“You are legal, right, Galliard?” Sarah asked as you came closer. _Oh, right. Galliard._

“I’m 20” he replied and shoved his hands deep inside his pocket, turning his gaze away from you as you tried make eye contact.

“We are downtown, Sarah” Joe reminded her as he gave your shoulder a playful shove. “No one here checks IDs.”

The woman rolled her eyes as you waited for the rest of the group to leave for the place. You wondered if they had invited Mr. Walter, but were glad when everyone started to move without him.

The bar wasn’t far at all. Two blocks down from the building, there was a small place with brown walls and yellow light shining from the inside. Your eyes set on the fading lights from the name sign; the ‘K’ from _‘The Oak’_ was blinking. You felt your lungs get assaulted from the heavy smell of cigarettes around, but ignored the sensation as you came in, following everyone into a corner table, sitting by Joe and another woman that sat a few desks from yours.

Your coworkers were engaging in conversation, some expressing their fears of being cut and some just unbothered, too confident to believe they had a chance of getting fired. Not very much interested, you kept drawing smiley faces on the water droplets on your beer glass, laughing from time to time when someone mentioned something about your boss.

That wasn’t your ideal way of celebration, but was definitely better than getting wine drunk alone on your couch.

Finishing your second cup of beer, you were still feeling sober, so you excused yourself to go to the counter, thinking of, maybe, something a little stronger to get you in the mood. The bartender was on the other end, entertaining a woman that sat alone as you tried to grab his attention, failing miserably.

You just leaned on your hand, sighing and waiting for him to finish with them before trying again.

“ _Could the service around here get any shittier?”_ Said a raspy voice near you, making you jump from the surprise.

You didn’t even had the chance to see who the owner was of said voice since the bartender got alarmed, turning from the girls and coming right to your direction, eyes a little wider than should be considered normal.

“Not for me” said the voice again. “The girl.”

You glanced to the side; there sat a man alone, white long-sleeved shirt tucked into fitted black pants and suspenders neatly placed on top of his shoulders. His eyes were covered by the onyx curtain locks, only leaving the pointy nose to your sight and he held a glass of whisky, ice swimming on top as his other arm was positioned above the counter, folded into his chest.

“On the rocks” you ordered to the waiting bartender and the man turned around, fixing your drink.

You took a seat and waited, often sneaking glances at the man sitting two stools away from you. He didn’t seem to mind your presence — or any at all, and he held an intimidating aura around; maybe it was the bangs.

“Didn’t your mom teach you it is rude to stare?” The man snapped and you felt your cheeks burning from the shame. _Fuck, how did he…?_

“ _Sorry_ ” you said, licking your lips as the bartender put your drink in front of you, leaving again. “I-I just wanted to thank you.”

“ _For what?”_ the other man gave you a little glance, now his eyes were visible, colored by grey tones and holding an apathetic stare along with his furrowed brows.

“The… um… bartender” you took a sip of your drink, making a weird face as your taste buds didn’t get the burning that was supposed to come with the whisky.

“ _Meh”_ his upper lip twitched as he gave his wrist a turn, mixing the drink inside his glass. “This place fucking sucks. Pretty sure they water down the alcohol.”

“I can see that” you pointed at your own glass, leaving it in front of you.

“ _Kirstein”_ the man let out louder, his tone harsher now, making you squirm a little from your seat.

You noticed the same bartender get scared again, leaving the girl confused as he walked away, coming to the other man’s service.

“Grab the good whisky. I don’t want any of this shitty dirty water you are serving.”

“S-Sorry, boss” he apologized, his posture making him seem smaller now as he disappeared to the back of the bar.

_Boss, huh._

“ _Why the fuck do you keep staring”_ he dragged you right out of your trance, keeping his cold gaze fixated on yours.

Turning your face away, you felt dumb as fuck. _Why the fuck were you staring for?!_ This nerving man, _who does he think he is?_

You let out a snort and rolled your eyes to yourself, watching as the bartender, Kirstein, came back with an old looking bottle of bourbon, taking the other man’s glass and cleaning it thoroughly before giving it back — _empty._ Curiously, you watched over your shoulder as the black-haired man took a handkerchief out of his pocket and raising the glass up to the light, as if he was trying to see if there was any dust inside. _Weird._

“Put some on for her too” he ordered, and you furrowed your brows in surprise.

_What a strange fucker._

The bartender grabbed your glass and rinsed it before filling with some fresh ice and the bourbon. You thanked him and searched for a tip inside your purse, but was interrupted when the man beside you raised his hand.

“ _On me.”_

You glanced at him again, now confused. When he decided that his glass was pretty clean, he let the bartender fix his drink and stir a little before giving it back, only for him to raise it to his thin lips and take a big sip, letting out a faint sigh right after.

“Hey, (y/n)” you heard another voice coming from behind you, so you turned and saw Galliard standing there, a bottle of beer in his hands and looking at his own feet, only raising his eyes from time to time, to meet your own. “Are you coming back to the table?”

_Fuck,_ you completely forgot why you were there in the first place. You opened your mouth to reply, but got cut by the foreign voice beside you, saying a simple “ _fuck off”._

Both you and Galliard stared now at the man; his posture had changed, he was leaning his back on the counter and resting his glass on top of his knee, his other hand tucked into his chest as his cold, silvery gaze didn’t leave the boy’s.

“Can’t you see we are having a conversation?” He continued, making the boy’s face get all red, maybe from anger, maybe from embarrassment.

“ _Are we?”_ You teased, sipping on your glass, keeping a brow raised.

He just gave you a simple stare, rolling his eyes and downing the rest of his liquor.

“O-Oh… sorry. I will go back then” Galliard ran a hand through his blonde hair and pursed his lips, turning away and leaving you with the grumpy man.

You watched as your colleague left and turned back on your seat, downing your own drink and watching the expressionless dude, just sitting there and making a single movement with his finger, only to bring the bartender back to fill both of your glasses.

“What was that for?” you asked, quite bothered that he was speaking for you.

He didn’t look at you, just adjusted his suspenders and stirred his own glass “I like to keep my peace.”

“Maybe I should leave then” you felt the alcohol hitting you already, feeling braver than before, and your tongue wasn’t going to hold any words back.

Now you saw the man look in your direction from the side of his eyes, sipping slowly and letting the rim of the glass rest on top of his chapped lips.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

That was enough to make your legs tremble. _Get a grip already._

His eyes didn’t leave yours. Silver seas washing over your dignity, questioning every one of your morals and unholy thoughts that ran through your mind that very moment. _Oh_ , to be the rim of his glass. _What the fuck, you don’t even know the guy?_ You shook your head and set your gaze on the counter, avoiding his stare for a moment until you gathered yourself. Alcohol liked to play with your head.

A slight movement behind you caught your attention, so you turned around to see what it was and saw Joe standing a few feet away holding his coat, and behind him all your coworkers seemed to be getting ready to leave.

“(y/n), we are leaving” he announced with a gentle smile, sweat glistening on top of his forehead while the collar of his shirt was loosened up. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

You grabbed your phone, the screen showing you it was midnight already and you didn’t even notice the time passing by. It made sense that they were already leaving; most of them had families to return to, commitments you never thought about having yourself, but it made you happy that you only had to worry about rent and getting a signed contract.

The man on your side shifted on his seat, now fully looking in your direction. Your eyes met him for only a second that seemed like a whole eternity; you swore you could drown in there, bathing in shiny waters as his unfazed expression held a whole story upon you. _What tales would he tell? What kind of secrets did he hold? What would he…_

“(y/n)?” Joe’s voice brough you back to reality as you gasped a little from the scare.

Shaking your head, you looked at him and then back to the mysterious man, that was still staring back, his own eyes now questioning you, almost daring, and that lit a fire inside your stomach, making you feel some kind of adrenaline rush as you contained a smirk that almost escaped to the surface.

“I think I’m going to stay a little longer” you now turned to the awaiting man, giving him a gentle smile and he just nodded, turning to leave the bar.

You didn’t even watch your former group leaving, your eyes were set on the man before you, and his eyes seemed to peek the same interest. It felt like a contest, to whom shall fail first, and give in to speaking something — _anything._ You watched carefully as he took another sip of his own drink, slowly licking the remaining droplets that were left on his bottom lip, not running from the main challenge, even for a second.

It took a few seconds for him to set his cup back on the counter, hands fishing on his hung jacket and grabbing a leather wallet, picking a few signs and putting them in front of his glass — you noticed it was more than just his drink, and the bartender confirmed yours were paid. Finishing your own, you rubbed a thumb over your wet lips and tilted your head to the side just a little, the same thoughts screaming inside your head, urging for you to do something about it.

Out of an impulse, you let out: “ _Why the fuck do you keep staring?”_

The man’s eyes twitched just a little, realizing you were now using his cards in your favor; the game was now in your hands, full control and domination took over your eyes and he didn’t seem to be complaining.

That’s when he left the bar stool, grabbing his jacket and throwing it over his shoulder. You noticed he wasn’t very tall, but his essence was more intimidating than a 6’5 person, and you could now see that his body was nicely marked under the thin fabric of the linen of his shirt, beautiful muscles and veins that almost cut through the skin on his exposed forearms. His dark eyes finally left yours, leaving emptiness inside you, but excitement grew along with every step he took to the front door, only to stop under the door frame and turn around, gaze falling on you once more, as if it never left in the first place.

* * *

  
When you decided to follow the man, a buzz of alcohol was giving you enough courage to walk from that bar, _downtown,_ in the middle of the night and in dubious company.

You didn’t walk very far, though. Only a block from where the bar was, following the man until he disappeared into an alley. Quick breath, rushing veins and heartbeats that seemed to be inside your throat, you slowly walked into the place, feeling relieved when you found the same man leaning a fancy black mustang that matched his personality from what you’ve gathered.

Stopping a little too far from him, you crossed your arms and stared, waiting for any reaction.

“ _Took you long enough”_ he said, unfazed.

“Not trying to die tonight” you let out as you rose your brows, pointing with your chin in his direction. “Do you always lure young girls into dark alleys?”

“I didn’t lure you. You were the one to follow me.”

You let out a small laugh, taking a few steps towards him, the small sounds of your low heels clicking on the floor as the air got thicker and tension grew stronger.

“I guess you’re right” you claimed. “But still—”

Walking closer, you stopped right in front of him, taking in the faint cologne mixed with the scent of whisky you didn’t get to smell before. Now you could see the dark strands that fell onto his silvery eyes, covered by furrowed brows and a dark gaze, looking up and down your figure, analyzing every bit of you, just as you were doing the same.

“— _You_ were the one waiting.”

He stood straight from where he was leaning, a few droplets of soft rain falling onto his cheeks, getting closer as you stared, not daring to move under his intimidating gaze. Your body was already aching for his touch, eyes darting towards his hands and wondering how those fingers would feel against your skin, grabbing your body… _inside you._ You let out a sigh just from the dirty thoughts and he seemed to notice his dominance over your mind.

“What do you want?” He asked, furrowing one of his brows.

You smirked a little. “I think you already know my answer.”

_Where is that courage coming from?!_

He didn’t seem taken back. It was so irritating how you couldn’t read his eyes even for a bit. The man leaned in, his head tilting to the side and mouth semi open, inviting lips crying to be fulfilled with yours, and you felt your body give in just for a second, just before his hand went to your throat, pressure being applied and turning around to lean your back quickly onto the car hood. His dark eyes were hovering above yours, expressionless even though you were squirming under his touch. It felt good and you let him take all the control, crying for more of his touch.

His face was now just inches from yours — smell of scotch and the faint cologne being the only things you could get; the grip on your throat still strong and none of your hands dared to move, but still craving to feel his shoulders, chest, warmth. You followed his gaze down as you noticed that your skirt rode up from the sudden movement, revealing your stockings and a bit of naked skin. That was enough to make him flare his nose and take a deep breath before loosening his grip on you; making you react badly, wanting his hands back onto you.

The man took a step back and crossed his arms, rolling his shoulders back and leaving you there to adjust yourself, already whining quietly from the sudden stop. _Fucking hell._ You let out a groan and stood on your forearms, weakly from all the adrenaline still pumping inside your veins.

“Get a grip, kid” he said, voice harsh as he adjusted the rolled sleeves. “Get in, I’ll drive you home.”

You felt a spark of hope inside you and did as he told, waiting for him to open the door for you, something you weren’t expecting before. _What a fucking gentleman, huh._ As you got in, he did the same and started the car, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and giving it to you.

“Your makeup is running” he just said that and took you by surprise.

_What…_

You looked into the rearview and saw just a few droplets of rain that mixed with your cheap mascara pooling under your eyes; nothing too major, but he _did_ notice. _What the fuck._ Feeling heat creep onto your cheeks, you started to clean the little stains, too harshly because of the frustration.

_What is even the point of this all?_

“Where do you live?” He asked as he put the car in the main street, driving slowly as he waited for your reply.

“I don’t even know your name. Why should I give you my address?” You teased, giving him the handkerchief back.

He scoffed and looked at you with the corner of his eyes. “Because you are drunk, and I’m trying to get you home.”

“I’m not going home” you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, knowing it was already pissing him off. “You can drop me off here, I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be stupid” he rolled his own eyes as he changed gears. “It’s late. Are you trying to get murdered?”

“Looks like a better option right now” you knew it was childish, but you didn’t feel like playing any games with this man.

He kept driving, now just plain ignoring you as you sat looking at the window, bothered by his presence. You had no idea what you were doing — what _he_ was doing, but the silence felt kind of comfortable around you. His presence was somewhat easy to be around, even though he held that grumpy and intimidating look.

When he entered streets you didn’t recognize, your eyes widened and you had to remember yourself that you knew _nothing_ about this man, still were inside his car, alone, _stuck._ He could do anything to you… he could just take a knife and slice your—

“Are you going to throw up or something?” He asked, taking you away from your thoughts. “You look pale.”

“Where are you taking me” you snapped, feeling cold sweat form on your nape.

“To my apartment” he said, sneaking a glance at you only to find you trembling and rolled his eyes. “Chill the fuck out. I’m just letting you stay there tonight since you won’t give me your address.”

_Oh. Hm. Okay._

Still wasn’t the safest option, but you _did_ have pepper spray inside your purse. You were safe… _kinda._

Your eyes fell on the window again, watching as he was leaving the downtown, the streets seemed to be built smoother around there, and lights weren’t just dim or flashy anymore, but real and shiny lamp posts that illuminated the whole place. Fancy parks that seemed empty if it wasn’t for the shake of the tree leaves under the cold fall breeze. You weren’t downtown anymore, it was foreign territory, but _wow._ What a great place.

“ _Levi”_ you heard him say and turned around to look at him, a little confused. “That’s my name.”

_Levi… Le-vi._ The name felt good rolling off your tongue and you couldn’t contain a small smile from rising to your mouth, covering your face from him knowing you were going to blush once more.

“ _Fucking hell”_ he rolled his eyes and you didn’t even realize he had his sight set on you for a moment. “Stop acting like a kid.”

You leaned your face onto the window and held your knees together, adjusting your position to feel more comfortable. Sleepiness was washing over you, taking control of your whole body now, alcohol not functioning anymore. Adrenaline left your veins only to leave you with the heavy eyelids that you couldn’t help but blink slowly.

_I’m just gonna rest my eyes… for a second… or a minute._


End file.
